


Career Counselling

by JaqofSpades



Category: Sea Patrol
Genre: Multi, OT3 baby, Threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-03
Updated: 2014-09-03
Packaged: 2018-02-15 23:36:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2247600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaqofSpades/pseuds/JaqofSpades
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She's Kate McGregor, about to take her first post as executive officer on a Navy ship, and everything she does is for the good of the Navy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Career Counselling

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Steph_Schell](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Steph_Schell/gifts).



> Ooh, shiny new fandom, how fitting for my 100th story at A03. Written for steph schell in return for Charloe body shots fic and hopefully they won't be too similar, because the idea of that chest and tequila wasn't leaving my head. Ever.

She usually ignores the question, or bats it away with a joke. But she's so close, thighs already shaking and brain approaching complete shutdown, that she can't help but blurt out the answer when he asks.

“Navy. I'm Navy,” she pants as the blonde ruffian looks up with a grin. “For fuck's sake, do not stop.”

“Yes, ma'am,” he shoots back, the vague wave of his hand probably an attempt at a salute. Kate rolls her eyes and thunks her head back onto the pillow as he starts to suck, mouth open and teeth grazing over her clit as the suction increases. Her back starts to arch, and she gropes around for it, desperate, but the feeling is too diffuse, fuzzy rather than sharp, and she, and she …

“Hey, Divemaster. Don't forget the pearl,” the girl orders and thank _God_ he's smart enough to take direction because yes, yes, she's coming, coming _everywhere_ and it's so good, so intense that she has to give herself a moment or two before she can move. Her brain wakes up first – of course it does, it always does – and she peeks out one eye to see if maybe she imagined her, that laughing girl. 

It's not that she doesn't like women. She really, really does - she may as well admit it to _herself_ at least - but she's never been brave enough to do anything about it before. And, well. There'd been quite a lot of _anything_. Hours and hours of it, and she can still taste champagne and tequila in her mouth, and lime and – oh God. Everything.

And she, soon to be executive officer Kate McGregor, had initiated none of it. She'd met a girl by the pool, and diving _did_ seem like a good idea, and yes, she had to agree the instructor was awfully pretty, all hard body and sunshine-on-a-cloudy-day smile. And maybe she'd suggested champagne when Nikki – her name is Nikki, Kate remembers with a blush – aced her Open Water cert, but the guy had laughed and said tequila was more his style.

"Only if we get to lick it off your abs," Nikki had purred, and he'd swallowed hard, obviously taken by the idea. (He'd had a name tag, for heavens sake, why couldn't she remember his name?) He might have said something, but she really doesn't know, because Nikki had slipped a hand onto her hip and was drawing little circles there, right where her sarong dipped low, and when she looked up, he looked as poleaxed as she felt.

Kate had mentioned she was all alone in the honeymoon suite – chief bridesmaid, runaway groom, holiday she'd never expected to be taking – but it was Nikki who marched up to the bar, ordered a bottle of champagne and a bottle of tequila, _to take away thanks mate_ , then quirked a smile at Kate and asked “how big's the bed?”

Not that they'd made it to the bed, not for a while. Kate had collected two champagne glasses and three stumpy ones for tequila (she had to have misread the situation, surely it was just drinks) and walked back out onto the terrace to find Nikki in his lap, mouths glued together, her fingers already undoing his shirt. She'd been backing away, leaving them to it when Nikki swung around, holding out her hand for the glass, and taking one long swig before upending the rest of it over that ridiculously defined chest. 

He actually bucked when Nikki dragged her tongue over those flat, male nipples, but she had just giggled and looked around for Kate. “Mmm, salty,” Nikki had purred, and waggled her eyebrows. “You have got to taste this.”

He moaned even louder at that, all approval, so she'd taken a deep breath before sliding down next to them and cautiously flicking her tongue over his other nipple, and – it was salty, and didn't do the champagne any favours, her stupid, anal-retentive self just had to point out. But he'd exploded into laughter at her wry comment, then reached for the bottle still sitting on the end table. “Here. Salt's good with … aah ... tequila,” his teasing turning into a gasp as she took advantage of his stretch to sink her teeth into one hard pec. 

“You know what else is good? Lime, and ice. Bet you've got some in the bar fridge,” Nikki chirped then levered herself out of his lap, practically skipping into the kitchen. Kate had busied herself opening the bottle, otherwise she would have had to look at the enormous erection Nikki had been sitting on and admit that yes, they were actually doing this thing, her and Nikki and Josh. 

(Oh thank God, he was Josh. Holiday, she thinks, one L. Divemaster, certified Rescue Diver, sparky by trade. He'd been impressive, in the water, more thorough and serious than the party-boy exterior suggested. The Navy could use him, she remembers thinking, before thinking became impossible.) 

The bottle had made it into the bedroom, even if their clothes hadn't. It was only fair, Josh had insisted, that he got to lick his tequila from skin as well, and she couldn't deny that, because the lime and tequila on salty skin was mind-bendingly good, making her do the most uncharacteristic things. She and Nikki had taken turns to lick it out of the furrows of his abdomen, and the Speedos he'd been wearing under his wetsuit did nothing to hide the thrust of his cock, and maybe she'd run her hand over that impressive ridge a time or two or slid along it with her chest, so it wasn't that much of a stretch to pull her shirt over her head and push her one piece down past her hips so they can at least _pretend_ to be doing belly shots. 

Josh and Nikki mustn't see any reason to pretend, because it's not her belly their lips close over. They don't even bother with the tequila, not at first. They simply latch onto a nipple each, eyes full of identical glee as they suck and bite and make her roll her hips up shamelessly, practically begging them to strip the suit right off her.

(Later, she does beg, and so does he. Neither of them have a moment's doubt that it's Nikki who's in charge here, even though she mentioned still being at Uni, so can't be much more than 21. Fuck 30, Kate thinks. She's 29 and clinging to it, and Josh could be 25 or he could be her own age, not that it matters. The girl laughs, or makes a breathy suggestion, and he's putty in her hands, just like Kate is.) 

It was Nikki who'd introduced them both to another use for lime, and ice, and her wicked, wicked mouth, sending Kate spiralling into a series of orgasms that seemed to rob her of every inhibition she'd ever had. She remembers ice, brutally cold on her nipples, and Nikki's mouth, even colder below. Tequila-flavoured cock, and tequila-flavoured clit, and even spreading her legs and letting them fuck her with the neck of the bottle.

Her poor, exhausted sex clenches one more time, just thinking about it. Josh had actually had to carry her to the bed, and _oh God_. She'd just crawled onto all fours and begged him to fuck the spasms right out of her.

She'd essentially passed out after that. She has a vague memory of low-voiced questions about exactly what Nikki had done to make her come so hard, and whispered instructions as she feels ridiculously soft skin stretched out full length next to her, their legs tangling together as Josh spreads Nikki wide. “Yeah, that's good. But don't forget my clit. Just – not all the time. Yeah. Hook your fingers, back towards you. Oh god, yeah. Again. Now, just flick at my clit, really gently ....” her directions obviously work, because Nikki gives a long, tortured wail, and she twists away from him to sob out her orgasm into Kate's hair.

“Navigator,” Kate remembers thinking as she surrendered to sleep. And maybe that's why she can't stop herself, when he asks. Just spits it out, careless in the face of 'oh my God, I need to come' and 'these strangers have seen more of me than anyone else ever has.'

“Navy,” she gasps, one more time and rolls over to trap the laughing girl under her mouth. She lifts her head first, and issues an order of her own. “Apply to Duntroon. You'd make a magnificent officer,” she says, then turns to the deep sea diver.

“And trust me, the Navy would _love_ you.”

_fin_


End file.
